Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Liberia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Vladislav Delay to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
Absolute Body Control,
Mad Mike,
Simply Red,
Visage,
The Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Lebanon Hanover,
James White and The Blacks,
Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crime,
John Holt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Franke,
Lalo Schifrin,
Infiniti,
The Cramps,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gregory Isaacs,
T. Rex,
Scott Walker,
Liliput,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Christie,
Schoolly D,
La Düsseldorf,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gladiators,
Tomorrow,
Oneida,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pantaleimon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aaron Thompson,
Blancmange,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minutemen,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Flag,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
K-Klass,
Jawbox,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nils Olav,
Black Sheep,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang of Four,
Agent Orange,
Newcleus,
ABC,
Hasil Adkins,
Wings,
Arthur Verocai,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Reuben Wilson,
Freddie Wadling,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.